


Short Stories (CountryHumans)

by Soviet_uwu



Category: CountryHumans
Genre: Different AUs, F/M, Germany joins Russia with drinking, I might be obsessed with CountryHumans, I'm Bad At Tagging, Is that bad, M/M, Oof 100, Other, Russia drinks (a lot), Some of these aren't ships, This Is STUPID, but don't hurt me, help me, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-04-12 13:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19132957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soviet_uwu/pseuds/Soviet_uwu
Summary: Just a buncha ships and stuffThe stories don't relate much (though I may continue some of the stories, be on the lookout for that), but some characters are used in more than one chapterAnd does NOT relate to Flower Crowns





	1. Table of Contents (what the heck)

Okay, so a table of contents is weird, but this is only to keep track of:  
1.) the Chapters and their names as time goes on  
2.) The ships that are involved in the stories  
Sorry for this weird edition that I didn't have in Flower Crowns.

—————

Table of Contents:  
1.) Too Much Alcohol (America x Russia)

2.) Challenge (Germany x Poland)

3.) "Fine." (Germany AND Poland AU)

4.) Shut Up! (America and Germany)

5.) Switch (Japan x America?? Kinda??)

6.) Tea Time (USSR x Britain)

7.) Snuggles Before He Goes (Greenland x Antarctica)


	2. Too Much Alcohol (America x Russia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russia gets super drunk, and America is worried about his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Misdhixunx I love this ship help  
> Also I don't know how people behave when they're drunk so very sorry if I use stereotypical symptoms or display it wrong  
> I'd probably rewrite the story if I did get it wrong though

Russia basically collapsed into the small country in front of him, slurring something unintelligible into America's (NONEXISTENT, trust me on this) ear. "Meri," he managed to mumble. "Where the heck am I?"  
However, instead of a reply, the tall man felt two hands gently guide him to a corner of the room they were in, where he slumped down until his butt hit the cold floor. He couldn't help but shudder- his body was feeling like trash, worse than normal. It could've been the inhuman amounts of vodka he drank in a short amount of time, or it could've been his health slowly getting worse. He stared at his fingers, suddenly bamboozled by the lanky things.  
"I swear to God, Russia," America snapped. "You need to at least calm down on all of the vodka. You're killing your liver." His expression softened as he lifted up his sunglasses. "I don't want to lose you."  
The tall country hummed an agreement, tapping his fingers on the floor. He heard an exhausted sigh come from America as he also slid down onto the floor, pulling his legs to his chest. Russia's heart twisted with guilt. He couldn't remember how many times America had to drag him into this room of their house, to try and convince him to stop getting horribly drunk. The worst thing, however, was that it was hard for him to forget. He had to carefully fool America, to reassure him that he'd stop all of the bad habits he had to stay with his boyfriend.  
He just couldn't let go with how close his father was to dying at one point. He spent so long away from father, when USSR was at the war, that it emotionally scarred him. He and his sisters, Belarus and Ukraine, didn't have a motherly figure to turn to. Russia had to be their protectors while their father was gone, along with trying to watch over his other, more distant siblings and adopted siblings that USSR had taken in.  
Then, when Third Reich had threatened him with death, it hurt him even worse. They were just managing without a mother— they couldn't afford to lose a father as well.  
It was such a weight on his shoulders. He turned to alcohol, hoping that it would numb the pain of everything horrible that happened in his life.  
Russia was suddenly startled out of his thoughts, and felt America reach down and grab one of his hands, lifting it to his heart. "My love," he whispered quietly. "I trust you, which is why I've told you this so many times. Even if you don't remember. Please, don't waste your life by drowning yourself in alcohol."  
Again, the taller country felt his heart skip a beat. He always remembered each time America told him that. A realization suddenly hit him. Gently, he pulled his hand away from America's chest (and wincing when he no longer felt the rhythmic beating of his heart) as Russia made an odd expression. "I'm not as good as Japan," he suddenly sighed. "She's perfect for you- and besides, she's been best friends with you longer than I've known you."  
America's face suddenly contorted into a look of dismay and horror, before melting into hurt. "Who told you that?" He shrieked, leaning forward- no, leaping forward into Russia's arms. "Japan is my friend, and she knows it. I'd never replace you with anyone, Russia. Stop thinking of these horrible thoughts, please. I'll accompany you through these thoughts, I'll be there for you when you feel hurt. Just stay a good person, Russia. Don't go any deeper than having an alcohol addiction."  
Russia felt something crack in his own heart. He teared up, stammering, "America, I'm so sorry."  
He felt America bury his face into Russia's striped sweater, staining it dark with tears. As he pulled back, Russia immediately started snaking his arms around America's body, planting kisses on his forehead and cheeks. Russia reached up to wipe tears away from his lover's face, forcing a tilted smile onto his face. Just to reassure America.  
"I can't guarantee I'll stop drinking," Russia chirruped, suddenly feeling a wave of sleepiness hit him. "But I'll try and... Chill." Once more, he fell onto America, pinning the smaller country against the wall as he almost immediately dozed off.  
"Dang it, Russia!" America hissed, failing to wriggle his way out from under him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a horror show when I was writing from start to finish
> 
> -Soviet_uwu


	3. Challenge (Germany x Poland)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Germany and Poland do the Pocky Challenge, and someone catches them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was  
> Also painful to write  
> I'm sorry I don't spend as much effort here than on Flower Crowns, I just need an output for any stories I think of

Germany backed away into a wall, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his head. "No, Poland," he said slowly. "W are NOT doing the Pocky Challenge. Last time Japan told us to do it, well..."  
Poland grinned in response, chirruping, "Stop overreacting. I pushed you into a pool before anything escalated."  
The taller country's face grew bright red, stammering, "I'm sorry, Poland, but it wasn't my fault that Japan tagged along to America's pool party." He straightened his tie, as if he was embarrassed that that one day they were at said pool party, he wore clothes he would usually never wear on a daily basis.  
"Well," Poland snorted, mocking Germany's tone. "We'll do it a second time." He waved the long treat in front of his lover's face, smirking. His angel wings, which were usually pressed neatly against his back, was now flapping up and down, as if he was impatient. "I can't stay an angel for too long," he joked, shuddering. "It's so hard being a nice person."  
Germany blinked hard, taking deep breaths. "I'll play the challenge," he said slowly. "This stays between us, though." He thought for a long moment. He grabbed the Pocky from Poland's hands, biting down on the side with more chocolate. "And I get more chocolate."  
Poland let out a quiet whimper, though he scooted closer to Germany. "Fine," he grumbled, turning to him. Placing a hand gently on one side of Germany's face, he bit the other side of the treat.  
Almost painfully slowly, they worked their way closer to the middle of the Pocky. After what felt like forever, their lips met. It was an odd experience, considering the fact that for a brief second, they paused to swallow down the Pocky they had. However, when they had truly started kissing, it was almost like time had frozen around them.  
When they pulled away to try and get air back into their lungs, Poland mumbled, "Germany. Round two?"  
By now, the country had his cheeks already dusted with a light blush, but he suddenly erupted into a heavy shade of pink. "POLAND!" He shrieked, grabbing onto his shoulders and shaking him roughly for a second, followed by mischevious giggling from the smaller man.  
"Got you!"  
Germany and Poland paused, their eyes squinted. "Hmm?" Poland hummed, glancing around. "Germany, was that you?"  
"No," Germany mumbled slowly. He looked around, trying to remember the source of where the voice was from. He found the accent familiar, yet...  
"IT'S JAPAN," someone suddenly shrilled. Japan slithered her way into a window, clutching her phone in her hands. The cat ears that poked out of her head were twitching erratically, as if she was struggling to keep herself from exploding into laughter. When she showed the phone to the couple, it was a picture of the both of them kissing. "I am so keeping this on my phone," she giggled. When she looked up, there was an almost creepy gleam in her eyes. "Next up- Russia and America. Shouldn't be too hard, considering the fact that they're crazy lovebirds. Just like you two."  
Poland inhaled sharply, a strained smile on his face as he attempted to wipe away at his mouth. "I know how to get them to be adorable, judt like you want them."  
When the small country turned around to grin at Germany, he could see the discomfort on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo what's this?  
> gasp! *notices your unreadable emotions*  
> How you doin with this cringe


	4. "Fine." (Germany AND Poland AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Germany and Poland have an argument after what happened to Poland a second time, thanks to Third Reich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a SEPERATE AU from any GerPol I do in my books, so calm down on that. If anything, I ship Germany and Poland to an almost unhealthy amount, but I was wondering how far I could push the idea that "Germany's family is trash to Poland so therefore Poland should back off" hence this chapter was born.

Poland had had enough. This was the last time he was hurt by the German family- he was sick and tired of being the weak person. He tried to be kind, he tried to defend himself. Even after his first death, however, Third Reich just seemed to love torturing the small angel. Poland attempted to move his wings slowly in and out, surveying the shape they were in. That monster had the same method to hurting him, like last time. He always went for the wings, to make sure he couldn't escape, though Poland had no doubt he was going to do much worse to them.  
He didn't realize Germany was approaching, but when he saw the country moving closer, Poland could feel his mouth contorting into an angry snarl. He tried to slide away, though he realized he wasn't careful enough.  
"Polen, I-"  
"Save it, Niemcy," Poland hissed, trying to turn away. He didn't want to see that person any longer than he had to- a mess of betrayal, regret, and frustration swirled around his body, making his body tense up with barely controlled anger. He didn't want to restrain it, but he had a reputation. He needed to hang on to it, but he also knew what he had to do.  
Germany tried to reach for Poland, his hand and arm shaking harder with each second it stayed in the air. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled, trying his best to summon up any words to convey the torture within him. "I swear, I could protect you from my family. I know everything that they would do, because I am the person they talk to."  
"You've told me this already." Poland flared out his wings, turning to the taller country with an almost wild look of anger. "Don't act like you're the good person, Niemcy," he spat, slapping away Germany's hand with one of his wings. He hunched his shoulders forward. "You're just like your family, except there's one difference. They were easy to tell that they were horrible people. Your grandfather, Third Reich, all of them. They all had that negative energy, swirling around their body and clouding their eyes from seeing the truth." He looked up, his eyes bright with held back tears as he met Germany's eyes. "I don't know you anymore, Niemcy. You're as heartless as them, and that difference is you tried to win my heart."  
Germany fell back a pace, guilt suddenly tearing holes inside his soul. "You don't understand-"  
"I understand perfectly," Poland cut in, his voice now level and cold. "You're scared of everyone in your family. You're afraid that because they have more power than you, they'd punish you horribly." He yanked up his sleeves, revealing scars from injuries he went through with Third Reich and the others. "You barely have anything compared to me," he spat, gesturing to his neck and other places. "Third Reich was the worst," he grumbled. "I should've kept my distance from you."  
The truth hurt Germany so badly. He knew what Poland went through, and had no excuse to deny anything that happened. He pulled his hand back closer to his own body, closing his eyes and bowing his head. "I get it now."  
Poland wanted to push it a step further. He truly wanted Germany to know how isolated and alone he felt when he fell to Third Reich, then to Reichtangle, than to others. "You need to leave me, Niemcy. I wanted to crush the love you had for me into little bits and make you know I can't love you back after this, you jerk. If there was any sort of relationship between us, it's over now."  
Germany recoiled even further, struggling to accept that this harsh country was once his lover, someone he relied on for emotional support, someone he vowed to protect. Silence hung in the air, before Germany took a deep breath and mumbled something quietly. "Goodbye then, Polen."  
Then he turned away, his feet heavy as his heart as he disappeared from Poland's view. Something cracked in the small country's chest, and he couldn't help but slide down onto the ground, pulling his legs closer to his body and wrapping his wings around himself so tightly that he appeared to be a bundle of white feathers.  
He couldn't bring up the courage to take back everything he said.  
He wanted Germany to stay far away, so he couldn't be anymore hurt than he already was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate titles to this chapter:  
> -"Soviet_uwu excepts she breaks Poland's heart into tiny shards along with some reader's hearts"  
> -"Soviet_uwu except she's questionable in her ships and what she stands for in the CH Fandom"  
> -"Another sad excuse of a chapter except it's long owowwowo"


	5. Shut Up! (America and Germany)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America won't leave Germany alone, even when he's trying to meet with USSR.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hihi I have no motivation at the moment, sorry.
> 
> And I have no freaking idea what I wrote

"Hey, Germany!"  
The workaholic jumped up with a loud yell, springing up immediately. Germany snatched a gun from who knows where, pointing it at the direction of the voice. "You'll never take me alive!"  
America seemed to freeze up, removing at sunglasses. An unsettled "haaaah" escaped his mouth, almost seeming to slither up to the country. Germany realized, with a slight burst of unneeded panic, that the both of them were the same height.  
"Germs," America snorted. "You don't have to be scared around me. Besides, why would I need to hurt you?"  
Germany let out an angry scoff at the nickname. "I don't have time for this, America. I have to meet up with Russia's family soon." He whirled around, putting away the small pistol in his hands in a drawer built into his desk. Then, he started tidying up the papers. USSR would be disappointed if he didn't go to the meeting on time...  
Don't mention that!" Germany howled. He basically shoved the other country away, earning helpless giggles. He was upset about EU not allowing him to see memes, and was close to punching the American in the jaw.  
However, he seemed to recover quickly. With a shake of himself, America chirruped, "I'm sorry, I forgot. Also, why should I be worried?" The mischievous look flickered back onto his face, and he leaned forward close to Germany. "You're the perfect boyfriend already to Poland. Gotta say, my friend, I saw that coming a mile away. Wonder when you're getting married?" That grin became even more intolerable.  
Germany's face was colored a heavy shade of red. " **What the—** "  
"Shh," America hissed, placing his pointing finger on top of the other man's lips. "Don't swear, I don't think your father would like that. After all, we ARE in your house."  
A few moments later, Germany was back to cleaning up his papers at lightning speed. A muffled screech was audible, but he ignored it.  
America was locked outside of the room, slamming against the door with fists. A loud "shut up" came from downstairs, and Germany snorted; the voice belonged to Russia, who was supposed to pick up Germany.  
"You'll have to knock down my door if you want to annoy me some more," he cried out.  
America's reply, mixed in with... horribly descriptive actions, didn't surprise him one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Wheezes in a foreign language*  
> Sorry this is short, sorry for me not writing frequently


	6. Switch (Japan x America?? Kinda??)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russia pulls a prank on America, and (despite being kind of wary) Japan wants to tag along. America's reaction was... Interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, before s o m e o n e panics and asks me about who I ship with, I still ship RusAme, and in my stories, they love each other very much. This chapter doesn't mean I ship AmeJap (or whatever Japan x America's ship name is), and I might have to cleanse myself after by writing all of the sweet RusAme I want to write.  
> Hopefully you enjoy reading this more than I enjoyed writing this :') okaysorrybye

"Okay, you got the paint?"  
Japan held up three jars of paint, a mischievous grin plastered onto her face. "Yes, Russia!" She chuckled, though her skin pricked with anxiety. She knew how loyal Russia was to America... Why would he do this? "One question, what do I get out of this prank?"  
Russia didn't waste any time with an answer. "You get to kiss him without getting your spine split in half," he muttered flatly. Japan's cat ears flattened on her head— her crush on an already taken person was PROBABLY a bad habit, but if Russia was willing to go through this...  
"I'm ready." The cat girl tipped her head up, closing her eyes.  
Never in her life (or lives wHEEZE) could she ever describe a feeling that matched being painted on. Worn-down bristles roughly brushed against her face, leaving a layer of paint that made her want to immediately wash it off or start screaming, and she didn't know what. With her body tensed up, however, Japan stayed still as Russia started working down towards her neck.  
When she was allowed to open her eyes, she could hear Russia heave a loud sigh. "Dang it..." He whispered. "I don't know if I was supposed to let you put on my clothes first. You might have to wear a jacket, though." He blinked his blank eyes at Japan, as if slowly he was convincing himself that this was the wrong thing to do. "I'm pretty darn sure my chest is not like yours. I'm a guy, not a girl."  
Japan let out a chuckle, checking her phone and going on camera. As she eyed the paintjob that Russia did to her, she murmured, "Not bad, not bad." She examined it warily, making sure that her white skin didn't show through the red or blue paint, and that overall it was even. "I'll probably have to let this dry."  
—  
*timeskip to a few hours later*  
—  
The both of them met at a grassy park, where America was partially dozing off on a hill. He was leaning against a tree, and Russia held back from running over and carrying him to his house or a bench or something.  
Russia glanced at Japan. They were pretty much wearing the same thing— a ushanka to cover Japan's cat ears, a blue and white t-shirt with stained gauze around their arms, and for Japan, a jacket tied around her waist at an attempt to conceal her cat tail. Russia sighed once more about her whole... Chest issue, before reporting, "Japan. Remember our deal— just convince him to kiss you, then I can scare him from behind or something. Don't pull any other sneaky tricks on him, though, or you can say goodbye to your tail."  
God, why did Japan agree to work with someone so overprotective over his boyfriend?  
"Alright," she murmured, clearly startled. "I'll get this over with."  
Then, she got up and walked over to America. "Hey, Meri," she murmured with a decent attempt of Russia's deep voice and heavy accent.  
"Hey, Russia!" The other country yelped, looking up and taking off his sunglasses. His eyed gleamed with visible happiness, and Japan could feel something crack inside her chest. Maybe Russia did this to show just how content America was with him, and to quietly tell Japan to back off.  
For a second, Japan didn't know what to do. Eventually, she grunted, "I heard about Germany and Poland."  
"I know, right?" America said wistfully. "Germany knew the true Poland, not just what he shows us. He's a great boyfriend to him, and I hope they stay together. However, I don't really know how I feel about cuddling near a fireplace. I kind of like... Going outside and snuggling there. Gives me more room to thrash around and probably kick you."  
Despite her attempt to be as calm and composed as Russia, Japan couldn't help but snort from the amusing comment. America smiled at him, and she couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat.  
America got up. "Whelp," he sighed, stretching out his limbs. "I have to meet up with Philippines. He was super hyped up about something, but I don't know what."  
"Wait!" Japan yelled. America looked back at Japan, his eyes wide from being startled.  
"What is it?" He said carefully, as if he was worried that Russia might attack him or something.  
Japan was at a loss of words once more. Then, after making sure she corrected her voice, she murmured, "You could stay a little bit longer." She finally sat down beside him (er, beside where he was sitting), her legs almost crying out in relief from standing up for so long. "Besides," she added. "It's boring without you." She pulled her legs up to her chest— partially because she was trying to fake being upset, mostly because she was baffled that America still hadn't figured out that she was a girl, and her legs SHOULD try and help.  
America seemed torn between the two decisions. With a sigh, he took out his phone, sent a text to probably Philippines, and sat down next to Japan. He leaned his head onto her shoulder, and he breathed, "This park is so pretty. I'd rather stay here forever, instead of going home. Just lay down and let the Earth slowly reclaim me."  
"You know," Japan blurted. "I have a thing on my mind." She fiddled with her gauze, making sure that America was alert and curious for said question. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Well, before you go to Philippines, want to... Share a moment?"  
Almost immediately, Japan's mind started screeching about how poorly worded it was, how badly she had acted around America, and was worrying about if America could see past the clothing and paint.  
Then, with a soft hand on her cheek, America leaned in and kissed her on the lips.  
To Japan's relief and/or worry, the kiss was not short. Nope, it felt like days, weeks, months were passing by them in a blur, and Japan couldn't move a single muscle.  
It just stayed on the lips, but when they drew back, Japan was slightly panting.  
"Wait," America hissed. He looked down at his hand, which was now smudged with red and blue.  
"Hah!" Russia cried, bursting out of God knows where. A bottle of suspicious contents (hehe) was being held in one hand, with his other hand unoccupied. "America, you just kissed Japan."  
America seemed to pale at Russia's words, before slapping a hand to his face. With a shuddering voice, he whispered, "I kissed Japan?" He reached over and snatched up Japan's ushanka. He made a face when he saw cat ears underneath.  
"Russia," America sighed. "Why did you think this was a good idea?"  
Russia crossed his arms, a victorious smile stretched out across his face and his eyes closed. "Introducing you to a prank war."  
Japan narrowed his eyes at Russia. Why a prank war?  
America seemed to slightly brighten up at the idea of being able to prank his boyfriend. Clutching the spare ushanka close to where his heart was, America got up and sauntered over to Russia. "I'll join," he murmured, lightly punching him on the shoulder. However, America walked past him, seeming to wipe at his mouth several times. His pace slowed down much morae, as if he was actually sad about something and wanted to thing about said something. In the distance, she could see Philippines waving rapidly at America, and winced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is random but do CountryHumans have hair  
> Should they have hair  
> Or no  
> And also  
> I want to rewrite Flower Crowns so it's better, since it was jumping around everywhere and not really well written to my eyes hhh


	7. Tea Time (USSR x Britain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soviet crashlands at Britain's place and drinks.  
> He says something he doesn't regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So  
> I ship USSR x Britain now (I call it SovietBritain/Britviet)  
> Don't @ me
> 
> Warning: the ending k i i n d a was encroaching into more inappropriate territory but trust me Britain and USSR didn't do it uwu  
> I wouldn't post that on ao3. xD

Britain raised the small teacup to his lips, quietly drinking as he watched the terrifyingly huge country across from him down a bottle of vodka. It was almost amusing, watching the alcohol vanish from the bottle in the span of about a minute. He wasn't really supposed to be here— it was more like Soviet had staggered into the house, offering to let Ukraine and Russia play with America and Canada.  
Now on most occasions, Britain was fine with that. While America had some sort of issue when it came to the Slavic man, he was usually locked in his room play fighting with Russia.  
The only issue was when Soviet came over with a huge bottle of vodka and a bookbag-like pouch swung across his body with several full bottles of vodka poking out.  
This was his fourth bottle, and Britain was tempted to reach for some sort of bucket. He couldn't imagine how much vodka Soviet could ingest before vomiting it all back up. Better yet, where did that alcohol go?

Soviet finally slammed down the bottle on the table, only putting the bottle down gentle enough to avoid having the glass shatter in his calloused hands. The last thing he needed was tiny bits of debris buried into his skin.  
"B-Britain," he hiccuped. "Where the hell am I?"  
Britain blinked, pulling the cup away from his face after a bit. He swiped his tongue over his lips, trying to think of an answer. However, his tongue dried up and without some sort of response, Britain could only hold his tea cup with increasing nervousness until the little bit of liquid at the bottom of the cup was shaking with slight vibrations.  
"Hh-" the man breathed out, staring into Soviet's intense eyes. Despite the drunkened haze he was in, those yellow eyes had a spark of boldness and pride that elicited... Strange feelings from Britain's heart. Gulping down air, he tried again, "you're at my house, you were h-here to drop off Russia and Ukraine.  
"And you just started drinking."

It seemed like Soviet was tempted to drink even more— he had already raised the half-empty bottle of vodka to his mouth, until he realized just how nervous Britain looked. Reluctantly, he put down the vodka, leaning towards Britain and taking in a deep breath. He reached forward, and with a level of gentleness that Britain would've never known he could have, Soviet clasped his hands together and held Britain's own.  
Looking into Britain's strangely purple, almost lavender eyes, he sighed, "Britain. Comrade. I do not give two-" he paused to hiccup. "T-two FUCKS about my health. I am wasting myself away. I can't handle my past.  
"However, I care about you."

That was a strange confession for Britain's tastes. He had no idea if there was some sort of message behind those words, and stood up from his chair. Pulling his hands away from Soviet, he quietly murmured close to his (nonexistent) ear, "Soviet, come on. I have a couch. You can drink later- you seem like you need rest."  
surprisingly, the usually stubborn man didn't resist. Soviet stood up carefully, though his chair still squeaked loudly from below him, and walked over to the nearby couch with Britain's hand unconsciously holding his own, their fingers intertwined.  
"Here."  
The drunk man sat down on the couch, taking off his ushanka and his jacket with it. He dropped both on the floor, laying on his back and looking at the ceiling. From his peripheral vision, he watched as Britain reached for the dropped pieces of clothing, hesitated, and pulled away with a strange, flushed expression.  
"Britain..." Soviet breathed, turning his head to look at the man. At first, Britain had seemed like he was walking to go clean up the area where they both were drinking, but turned around with a vaguely confused and dazed expression.  
"Yes?" He replied slowly.  
Soviet blinked once, then twice. "Please... Stay with me." The Russian man made an effort to sit up rather than get a stomach ache from laying down so quickly after drinking massively. He placed a cold hand to his warm face, trying to figure out why the hell he kind of looked borderline crazy.  
Britain inhaled sharply, his eyes widening with shock.  
And a different emotion. But what?

"I-I-" he stammered, unable to properly respond. Britain had divorced from France in a pretty nasty way. He was afraid to let anyone else into his life romantically and tried to use his pride to take care of his sons as well as possible.  
Was he willing to accept Soviet as some sort of stepdad for America and Canada?  
How would America feel with a man he didn't exactly like as some sort of father figure?  
He took in a deep breath. It felt like a choice he was willing to do, a risk he was wiling to take. He could explain to the rebellious ex-colony. He would understand. Hopefully.  
Britain stepped closer to Soviet, his arms wrapped around his body. "A-Are you sure?" He murmured, afraid to do something that could potentially tick off the man on the couch.  
Soviet shifted his position so that Britain could easily sit close by— heck, even lay on top of him, if he so chose to. He hummed a quiet "mhm" in the smaller country's direction. "Please."  
He needed no second reminder. Britain finally walked over to the couch, sitting on the remainding space of the couch. There, he idly stared at his company, curious to see if there would be another conversation that would spark between him, or if he'd just fade off into a drunken nap.  
"I love you."

There was a VERY audible choking noise that came from Britain. Who the hell said that? The man looked around, his lavender eyes wide open. He finally looked at Soviet, who was staring at him with those burning yellow eyes. Soviet eventually sat up all the way, scooting close to Britain.  
"I love you, Britain," he breathed softly, looking at his direction. It was weird how Soviet was behaving; it was as if the alcohol had briefly changed his mind, making him say lies that would be broken as soon as he sobered up.  
Unless....  
He was saying the truth.  
Britain could smell the alcohol in his breath, a sure sign that it was likely the former, that Soviet truly didn't love him, that he was just reciting a random memory that came to mind—  
The smaller country felt his hands become enveloped. He looked up, watching in silence as Soviet gently held his hands together with his own hands.  
"I'm not lying, dear. I didn't want to say this before- I was afraid someone would judge me for these feelings. But now, I feel like..." Soviet let go of Britain's hands, moving his own hands to Britain's cheeks. He cupped the soft skin, quietly breathing, "...I can actually embrace those feelings.  
"How do you feel, Britain? Are you okay with it?"

Britain felt his heart wrench inside his chest. He was completely sure that it was just a trick the alcohol was playing on Soviet's brain, that those feelings would fade away in a heartbeat and leave him heartbroken.  
But oh, how he wanted to return them.  
So he did. Swiftly, Britain leaned up, basically rising to his knees as he smashed his lips into Soviet's. The taste of vodka immediately flooded his mouth and left him surprised, but didn't care. He wanted this. He wanted this so much.  
Soviet also seemed shocked. His hands pulled away from Britain's face, only to come back with a vengeance to grab at his waist. There was an almost hungry emotion behind every action Soviet did— with how he deepened the kiss, with how his hands searched Britain's body...

"D-dad!?"  
Britain pulled away, his face basically completely red, watching as America stared, horrified. Russia seemed equally afraid.  
"What just happened?" America cried.  
Russia held a finger over his lips as he faced America. "They're kissing. Shhh."  
Soviet scoot back at an attempt to not make it look like Britain was on top of his legs. "Hm- uh, Rossiya, you can keep playing with Ukraine."  
There was an almost sick look in Russia's eyes. He grabbed America's hand, turning around and heading down the hallway they emerged from.

Britain breathed in quickly, wiping at his mouth. Now that he was slowly recovering from the high of emotions he felt, he could REALLY taste the vodka that Soviet had drank.  
It was not a pleasant taste. Deep down, he wished that a kiss as intense and passionate as that didn't happen right after the Russian man had downed his bottles of alcohol. It probably would've been more enjoyable, but Britain wasn't complaining about the kiss overall.  
"Round two?"  
"What the bloody hell?" Britain responded, staring at Soviet. The Russian, whose face shouldn't possibly be any darker with red, was visibly blushing just a bit as he shrugged.  
Trying to explain himself, Soviet murmured, "I mean... You seemed really excited."  
Britain tried to figure out how he'd explain to America about this. "How about later?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am VERY sorry for writing this.  
> Heads up: in this AU, where Britain and USSR fall in love, America and Russia aren't in love (obviously). If anything, they are just best friends/closely bonded siblings, but relationship-wise America is single (though Japan and Philippines has crushes on him) and Russia is with Germany.  
> I can't believe I wrote this much for a semi-unpopular ship  
> Don't judge, I can do whatever I want >:((


	8. Requests!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo before you type in controversial ships for me to willingly write  
> Read rules please :')

Hey, it's ya girl Soviet_uwu!  
I was planning on making a request page for this book for a long time, ESPECIALLY since I don't have any ideas for what to write about xD  
The best thing about this?  
All you have to do is tell me a ship/a few countries you want me to write about, what you want the oneshot to be about, optionally their personalities (unless you want me to use my own personalities on them), and anything else (questions, concerns, etc.)!!  
\-----  
RULES (yes sorry there are rules):

1.) The following ships that I, for my own reasons, will NOT write:  
—Any ship involving the main Axis Powers (it just makes me unhappy to portray them as someone who can actually fall in love qvq I'm sorry,,)  
—Any ship involving Third Reich (just to get my point across.)  
—Germany x France  
—Chimerica (China x America), AmePhil (America x Philippines), or AmeJap (idk convince me on this)  
—Reichtangle x Poland (Idk it just makes me grimace)  
Any other ships should be alright! :D

2.) If I somehow misinterpret your form, I'm sorry! Feel free to tell me I messed it up. I will delete the chapter/at the very least rewrite it for you. <3

3.) These chapters DO take time! I will try to pump them out as fast as possible, but I'd like if you preferred quality over quantity. Then again, I usually get motivation during 10-11:00 pm where I live so oof

4.) If you read these rules, put "Velvet" in the others part of the form. <33

\-----  
FORM:  
-Name (for me to use in the summary):  
-Characters:  
-Is this a ship or no?:  
-Personalities for each character(s) (Leave blank for me to use my own):  
-Plot of the oneshot:  
-Chapter title (Optional):  
-Other:

When you're done with the form above, post it in the comments! :3


	9. Snuggles Before He Goes (Greenland x Antarctica)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by: stray  
> Please give them claps for suggesting this idea <33  
> \-----  
> Antarctica's melting too fast to reverse his ailment. Greenland tries to make his last few months as comfortable as possible.

"You're... Melting."  
Greenland's comment was swift and nearly emotionless, save for the slightest hint of worry that edged his words. He extended a hand, placing it on Antarctica's shoulder. The country melting in question was to Greenland's height, though each day he grew a little bit shorter.  
_I know,_ Antarctica signed using his hands. He exhaled a grey cloud, a shudder rocking his body. _Don't worry about me, my love._  
"But I will worry about you," Greenland countered, forcing the country to lay down. On the cold carpet, a small puddle formed from melting ice pooled around Antarctica's feet and soaked into the fabric, though tiny chunks of ice grew on the surface of the water, clinging onto the carpet as the country sat down. It didn't help that the night was colder than comfortable, despite the fact that both countries preferred the cold.  
"You have to rest, Antarctica. You're sick. The humans, they've hurt you."  
Antarctica's icy blue eyes lit up with a strange, almost shocked expression, before dimming down from pain as another shiver shook his body. _I am alright,_ Antarctica signed. _Please, Greenland._  
A look of hesitation flitted across Greenland's face as he pulled an outstretched hand close to his body. "..I'm not going to stop worrying about you, Antarctica." He looked down at his palms, startled at the slick fluid that was smeared across them. It was from the melting country sitting in front of him. Closing his hands into fists, he looked up at Antarctica. " _Tell me anything._ Tell me there is something to do to make you recover, Antarctica."

A small frown flitted over Antarctica's face. Coughing once, then twice, he shuddered as a hand scratched ever so slightly over the mask he was forced to bear, filtering the air he breathed in. Steam left the mask as he continued coughing for a few seconds, much to his boyfriend's despair. _Calm down, Greenland,_ he signed. _Nothing will fix me now. I'm too far gone— please, stop using up your effort on me._ He removed his jacket, a woosh of cold air coming from him in the process. _There, happy now? It feels less like a furnace._ Despite the fact that he was being serious, a small glimmer of amusement shined in Antarctica's eyes.  
And Greenland noticed the small sign of humor Antarctica tried to do. "You're making me worried," he hissed, though his voice quivered with a badly repressed chuckle. "Don't say it feels like a furnace. Besides, it's super cold." He pressed the back of his left hand against Antarctica's forehead. That temperature wouldn't go down anytime soon, but it was better than ten minutes ago. "Is there anything you want to do right now...? Drink hot chocolate? I can make it cold for you."  
Antarctica narrowed his eyes. _You're just as icy as I am, Greenland. Don't drink hot chocolate!_ Regardless, he opened up his arms, offering a hug. Realizing it was probably harder for Greenland to understand his sign language then, he closed his arms briefly to sign, _Buuuuut.... A cuddle would do just the trick, love!_ One again, he opened his arms.  
Greenland's heart skipped a beat. Antarctica was being precious, and he knew it. Despite the sealed fate Antarctica was marching to, despite the fact that he couldn't do anything to save the very country he knew and loved, Greenland threw his worries out the window. He opened his arms, enveloping Antarctica in a bear hug. "Get over here!" he growled, snaking his arms around Antarctica.  
A giggle escaped from Antarctica as his bare skin came in contact with someone just as cold, even with his puffy jacket on. Despite the fact that Greenland couldn't see his hands, he signed affectionately, _love, stop! Stop it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this wasn't exactly accurate to the request, let me know! @stray


End file.
